The Beginning: A delicate time
by StormWindsRising
Summary: In the style of Robert E. Howard, a tale of a barbarian in the Warhammer world.
1. Chapter One

  
  
  


1.

  
  
  
It had started many years ago with a Barbarian raid into the Bretonnian Northlands. The Yargar tribe of Northman came arcoss the Sea of Claws in longships filled with battle hungry men. Among them, Zulgan the Chieftain, led his men to the shores of Brettonia insearch of riches and slaves. Thier first successes had been small settlements and individual farms set fire to applease the Dark Gods. Many were slaughtered, and thier heads were placed on pikes. Those that survived but were wounded, had been tied to wagon wheels nailed atop large poles. Left to die, left to become a warning to those that would follow them. Those captured that were fit to walk were bound and forced to travel into the Yargar homelands in Norsca. Many of them would become sacrifices, a few would become servant-slaves or currency to other Northmen tribes for goods they needed.   
  
The Yargar finally made thier way to a large village called Chailai, along the Lairen river. The villagers, caught off guard by the barbarian approach, surrendered quickly in meek and pleading voices which the Yargars ignored. They too were slaughtered. Buildings burnt to the ground, Shrines desecrated, any object of civilation meet with fierce destruction. It was not long before Zulgan called for the construction of poles from the rubble. Soon, they would leave Chailai, moving north back to the Sea of Claws, thier longships, and Norsca. They left behind the terror stricken faces with no bodies, the charred remains of worship, wailings of the tortured who begged for death.  
  
They also took captives from Chailai, one of them a fairfaced girl of 16 summers. Lithe and well formed with the brown hair and green eyes common among Brettonians. She was considered a great prize among the Yargars and Zulgan took her for himself. He tied her to his horse and marched back to the Sea of Claws, she became little more that a symbol of power in those first days. The girl, Llyssia, walked on her bare feet given little food or water. Her feet blistered on the hard trails, she weakened and became sick. It was not until her journey to the longships ended that she had anything along the way of rest. She was given fine fur rugs and blankets to lay apon in the longships hold. Tankerds of wine and salty meat were made availible, while her people starved in pens. The crossing was long and cold with frequent storms. The dead captives were fed to dogs or tossed overboard. One they dragged from the pens Llyssia recognized as a farm boy that came down to the village with his father during the harvest season. His body was bloodied and had looked gnawed apon.  
  
It had been a week and half into the crossing that Zulgan visited her in the hold for the first time. The lastest storm had passed, allowing the northmen a moment to relax. He came with several of his men, worn from the ocean's fury and sullen in demenor. They spoke to each other in gutteral tones that possessed a sing-songey quality to it. They seemed relieved and quite tired, soon many of them fell asleep including Zulgan. It was this way for the better part of the day, and as the sun began to set, they shifted from thier slumber. Zulgan dismissed his men and drank some wine. He wolfed down several pieces of salty meat, then looked on Llyssia with a knowing glare. He ate a few more pieces of meat, then turned to her again. He approached her, and pulled away the rugs that covered her body. Then bedded her against her will.  
  
Zulgan did not return for the rest of the crossing, it had stormed clear into the Yargar homelands. Even with the bad weather, the homecoming had not gone unnoticed. The remaining tribe had come out to greet the raiders in the rain, and help with the stolen goods and slaves. Zulgan did not return for Llyssia, instead two men dragged her from the hold, taking her to the great hall of the Yargars. Inside, Llyssia was taken aside to a platform away from the other captive. She sat apon a wooden box covered in anthor fur rug. But from her position, saw the horde of wealth that the raiders had returned with. Chests of glittering trinkets, fabrics in different shapes of repair, tools and weapons, barrels of wine and grains, some jewels and Brettonian coinage. The starven captives were lined up in steel manacles along the walls, a few of them had come from Llyssia's village. They now looked so different to her than before the raid, thinned and pale like lepers or the corpses that walk. She felt as if she had not seen them in a year's time for so much had changed.  
  
The crowd's shouting faded quickly into reverence as an elderly man began to walk among the captives. He was frial and wore a robe with runic symbols painted on the sleeves in smears of red dye. His eyes, dispite his age, were still full of wild anger, and did not speak, he shouted. He was attended by a small boy carrying a bowl of red paste to which the old man dipped his fingers in. As he walked by each captive he would shout in his native tougue, and then draw symbols on thier foreheads. Then in turn they would be dragged away. Once the last captive had disappeared into the back end of the hall. The Tribesmen began again to divide up thier loot with laughter and cheers. There was more shouting and revellery, everyone had forgotten about the old man who slowly made his way to Llyssia.  
  
The old man walked throught the crowd and stepped up onto the dias that showed off the best prizes of the raid, including Llyssia. He looked her over with his wild eyes, then dipped his fingers into the paste once more. His shaking hand reached out for Llyssia's forehead, then he suddenly stopped. His eyes blinked, then lightened as he looked down at her belly. He made a gasping chuckle throught blacked teeth and lowered his hand. Moving the remaining tore pieces of her dress to expose her belly, he made that gasping chuckle again. He painted on her a mark below her navel, it was a runic symbol...a symbol that bore a resemblance to a chair...or a thorne.   
  
  
  



	2. Chapter Two

2.

  
  
Several monthes passed and Llyssia's stomach swelled with Zulgan's child. Llyssia's time as the great prize quickly passed into the role of a servant-slave. She was forced to labor in the fields, serve food in the halls, and pleasure Zulgan's closiest men. Even as the signs of a child had became apparent she recieved the worse duties that could be assigned. Nareel, the Lady of the Hall and wife to Zulgan, had hated the Brettonian girl sence the first day when she was displayed on the Hall's dias as a trophey. Nareel knew that Llyssia carried Zulgan's child which was a threat to her own child, Korvus. She wanted Korvus's future to not be hampered by the claims of Zulgan's bastard child, so she tried her best to overwork the slave-girl. To the point of either Llyssia's death, or the death of the unborn child. She made her clean the pens of horses to make her sick with disease, she made her feed the Werekin in hopes that they would kill her instead. She interested the drunken comrades of Zulgan to take her into the back rooms, this would hurt the bastard child's claim to the thorne. As the months wore on Nareel's toture took it's toll on the servant girl. Llyssia dropped wieght, she slowly walked about her chores as if lifted with little strings that could break at any moment. She stopped speaking as her wits dull to the pain. The life in her eyes died.   
  
Dispite Nareel's best efforts, the child was born. The goodwives who had come to help with the delievery had been frightened at the condition of the child. They told tales among the other villagers that Llyssia had given birth not to a baby, but a living skeleton for it had been so undernurished. But the child lived to the astonishment of everyone. Then as tradition demanded, they brought the child to the Yargar's elder. The same old and decripid man whom had visited Llyssia nine months ago. The village elder, Horian, made his same gasping chuckle as the baby-skeleton was placed before him. He called for his bones to descry the child's future for the Yargars. He looked down onto the scattered pieces of bone and coughed repeatedly in fits of mirth. The villagers asked for his visions, but Horian only told them that the child would live.  
  
That night in the main hall, Nareel and Zulgan argued about the new child. Nareel demanded that the child be killed, and Zulgan refused quoting tribal tradition. Llyssia, whom had been attending the arguement, stood in silence seemily unaware of even the small infant in her arms. The fire in her life had gone out, she had done the last thing required of her by nature and her body began to give in to nature's final call. The arguing brought the other servants of the Hall, whom took the child from Llyssia and begged her to sit and rest. If she understood what the servants were saying she gave no notice of it, she stood there...waiting. All other things in her life vanished, she only waited to die. The arguement now turned to Llyssia, Nareel pointed accusing fingers in frustration and jealousy. Drinking from a heavy tankard, Zulgan pounded his fist barking slurred commands at his wife. Nareel shouted back in defiance, Zulgan rose from his chair and threw the emptied tankard away. He shouted into Nareel's face, only to have her shout back pointing at the baby and at Llyssia. In a rage, Zulgan spun around grabbing a great axe from the table. Nareel screamed in fear until Zulgan turned away and cleft Llyssia, shoulder to crotch. Llyssia did not die instantly, instead she convulsed several times in agony. Her internal organs spilling onto the floor with an ever expanding amount of fluid. Falling limb, Llyssia slipped into death.  
  
Zulgan stood shocked for a moment at what he had done. It was against the tribal traditions to take the life of anthor tribesman or a servant. He looked around at the rest of the servants and they all coward in fear. Zulgan turned to his wife, she looked down at what was left of Llyssia with a contented smile on her face. Nareel then pointed to the child and insisted that Zulgan kill it as well. He turned to the child, then turned back to Nareel. He struck her across the cheekbone with the back of his hand, the force of which drove her into a table. Nareel would remain unconscious until the next day for Zulgan forbid any of the servants to attend to her. After dismissing the servants, there came a gasping chuckle from the halls entrance. Horian had entered, assisted by the same boy. He laughed until his lungs ceased forcing Horian into a coughing fit. He recovered, then pointed to the child, demanding that Zulgan care for it in punishiment for breaking the traditions. Zulgan agreed, he picked up the skeleton-child and rose him into the air. He named that skeleton-child, Marig.   
  



	3. Chapter Three

3.

  
  
Zulgan honored his word to Horain, he cared for Marig and raised him in his hall. Once he was able to walk, talk and understand, Marig was given the task of servant to Korvus, his half-brother. Korvus, four years Marig's elder, grew to be vain and callous like his mother, Nareel. Like his father, he was a ture northman, blonde hair, blue eyes, thick arms, tall and barrel chested. He spent his days in hunting, combat-training, and learning what was his father's domain. Marig grew to be the same hieght as Korvus with his father's broad shoulders, but his mother's brown hair, green eyes, and trim build. It was Zulgan's wish that Marig would be Korvus's 'brother in arms' and some of his time was spent in combat training. Everything else was in seritude to the hall, chopping firewood, cleaning Korvus's kills, attending the household duties, and serving food. Nareel kept him busy with additional tasks, anything she could think of for she still held the old jealousies of Llyssia. The truth about Llyssia's death had become a secret among the Yargars. Nareel had sent those servants who knew to sacrifice to the dark gods. Horian knew but never told anyone and few people got the opportunity to ask him about it for he disappeared with his servant boy during the winter. Zulgan and Nareel told everyone she died after childbirth, this was accepted with suspicion but never challenged. Many knew that Zulgan had bedded Llyssia during the crossing and assumed that Marig was the half brother to Korvus. When Marig was raised in the hall of Zulgan it reinforced that theory, thought it was never spoken of. Most figured that Nareel had killed Llyssia, for all knew that she had sent several of her servants to sacrifice that winter long ago.   
  
Tweleve years after the death of Llyssia, during the spring thaw. It became time for Korvus to join his father among the raids to the southlands. Zulgan trusted his son's puissance at arms, so he would join him in the crossing on his longship with twenty of his closiest men. Marig would be taken as well as cabin boy and camp servant during the months that the Yargars ventured into deeper territory. Soon, ten long ships filled with men set sail from thier port city in the Yargar homelands. They sailed south around the Norsca peninsula and into the Sea of Claws. Several storms buffeted the ships and once they were attacked by one of the many sea creatures that lurked in the deep depths. A giant shark that sank one of the longships with one bite of it's massive maw. Many made it to other ships, thought their horses and what few men that did not reach the surface must have satisfied it's hunger for it did not return. Marig did not see the shark in the gloom of darkness and rain, but he could hear it crush the longship while splashing about in the water. With the exception of a few more storms, the crossing went on without incident.   
  
The first stop had been into the northern shore of Brettonia where they made camp in the frontier wilderness. The organized into three groups. The first led by Zulgan was the largest and mounted on the many horses they brought with them. They would venture into the south west, hitting the smaller settlements that they could overpower with ease. Anthor group piled onto two long ships, they would go down the river system and raid the villages along the banks. The last group guarded the remaining long ships and served as a storehouse for the slaves and loot the raiders brought back with them. Marig stayed with the last group and performed the tasks of collecting firewood, cleaning game, and cooking meals. It was a good time for Marig for once the day was done and the chores finished, he got to experience the comradery of camp life. Men in the wilderness on adventure often opened up to the people they travelled with. They would say things that they would not say in the villages of thier homeland and in the company of thier women. They told tales of course, and the business of thier lives, making intangible bonds few would understand. During this time, the social stigmas of status were forgotten and for the first time Marig was treated not as a servant boy, nor a camp follower, but as one of the tribe.   
  
The nights went by with campfires and mead-fuelled tales of heroism, women, and the gods. They often spoke about thier lives back home; tales of thier children, wives, and labours. Marig listened to them all; Olaf's tale of how he lost his eye, Sturgar's greatest love and regret, the death of Hans's brother to the sea. This is where he heard of the first tales dedicated to the great shark that sank Funris's longboat. The shark, Golchuk as it is called by the old traditions, had been the terror of many stories of the Yargar. How the sleeping giant wakes at the time of the crossing to strenghten the Yargars for thier battles abroad. A gift from Ahmrah, the god of battle, to ensure that the weak shall never inherit the world. Marig listened to them all, drinking in thier tales like the warm, sweet liquid he drank from a hollowed out horn of a bull.  
  
During the day it became nessesary to begin contruction of the things the raiders would need apon thier return. Corrals to keep captured livestock, pens to keep prisoners, and storage to house the riches looted. Defences had to be built around the camp in case they were attacked themselves. Food had to be secured and prepared, which meant firewood, cleaning game, and the same household duties Marig had been doing all of his life. It was different now because he was no longer doing these chores alone. The Yargar worked in teams to accomplish these tasks without the thought of status. Marig was no longer burdened with the heavy work load by himself, he worked with others. Which doubled his zeal in his duties, so much that when he was finished with his first chores, he ran to help someone else with thiers. His youth and spirit garnered respect for his name, and he was now treated with that respect. So when the sun set and the chores done, he was warmly welcomed by the campfires.   
  
  



End file.
